#but the thing is i really did used to get so much more enthusiastic engagement and support from this fandom. it doesn't feel like that now

[4lph4kidz]

i feel like i've been really negative at times, if not mean, and i don't really know how much of that fear is reflected in reality at all but fwiw i am sorry, that's not the kind of prescence i want to maintain here

[illmoraineakoi]

As much as I adore the idea of Alan being like a dad to the Color Gang, I am absolutely feral for interpretations where that’s not really the case.

Or, more specifically, when those feelings are very one sided.

The CG look up to him and adore him as a parental/guardian figure, loving him almost like a father, especially Orange in particular who 110% sees and loves Alan as a father figure, while Alan himself sees himself more as a tolerant friendly landlord; just a dude who’s letting five stick figures live on his computer and not really interacting with them (except for Orange) very much beyond playing a few games for them or sparring with them. And even with Orange, it’s more of a friendship relationship than a parent-child one. Just generally pretty emotionally detached/distant towards them, not really feeling very strongly about any of them. Sort of how IRL Alan speaks about them as characters; fond, but not loving*. He still largely just sees them as stick figures. Like smart little living desktop pets.

Which makes all of the potential scenarios where they meet on more equal grounds (Stick!Alan AUs and IRL!Sticks/Human!Sticks AUs) potentially very juicy.

The CG and Orange in particular are always very excited to meet and actually interact with Alan, and Alan just feels overwhelmed and awkward by all the affection/attention. Or perhaps even confused about why they seem to like him so much.

Which can very quickly turn into a situation where the Gang notices that Alan doesn’t seem very comfortable around them, that he’s not nearly as excited and enthusiastic about finally being able to touch and hug them as they are with him. That he seemed to be kind of distant from them, withdrawing away from them. Oh, he’s friendly and polite, and he’ll talk to them, he’s not being mean or ignoring them or anything, but it’s not really like how they always imagined meeting him would be. It’s not as happy and joyous. He doesn’t interact/engage with them on his own. Doesn’t offer hugs or pats or much affection at all. He’ll do it if they initiate or ask, but he never gives anything of the sort freely.

Perhaps they think it’s because everything is so new and fresh, that maybe he’s feeling a bit overwhelmed. Maybe he just needs a little time to get used to them.

But when they give him that time…nothing seems to change. And they’re just left even more confused and concerned. Why was he acting like this? He was never like this before… (or so they think.)

Or perhaps a situation occurs where it’s revealed that Orange sees him like a father, or perhaps Orange even calls him his father, and Alan denies it. Corrects him. Tells Orange that he’s not his parental figure, that he always thought they were just friends. That all of them were just a bunch of sticks he was letting live on his computer. He wasn’t their dad, where in the world did they get THAT weird idea from? He was just Alan, the owner of the computer they made their home on. He barely even knew them.

And the Gang is both shocked and heartbroken. They hadn’t known Alan felt that way, just as Alan hadn’t been aware of how they felt. It was so easy for misunderstandings and misinterpretations to happen between them when they couldn’t really communicate very well.

But Orange, Orange is devastated. It hurts, so bad, because Alan literally created him. Alan was his creator, the closest thing to an actual parent he had. And yet Alan didn’t want to fill that role towards him, didn’t want to be his father. He could have seen and understood Alan not considering himself the others’ parent, since Alan hadn’t made them, but Orange was undeniably his.

But Alan didn’t want him like that. Didn’t see him like that.

He was just a stick figure who frequently helped him animate and lived on his computer. The fact that Alan made him appeared to be irrelevant.

So Orange puts on a smile and accepts it, apologizing for misunderstanding. But inside, he’s raw. The rejection feels so awful.

And it stings just how relieved Alan looked after his apology, like he was grateful that they weren’t arguing about it.

Because they don’t. What more was there to say? Alan had made his feelings on the matter very clear, and who were they to try argue against that? To challenge him, and demand he change his feelings towards them? To demand he love them? No, that’s not how things worked. That wasn’t how love worked.

You can’t try to force someone who doesn’t love you to love you.

Instead, Orange goes to his room, and sobs. It hurts so much. It feels like a chunk of his heart has been ripped out, leaving a giant empty gap where it had been. He can’t stop thinking about why Alan didn’t love him even though he made him. He can’t help but wonder if it’s because somehow he wasn’t good enough. Or if he’d done something wrong.

Or if it was because he was just a stick figure. Not human. Not a “real” person in Alan’s eyes.

He doesn’t know, but it hurts all the same.

The others, too, mourn the loss of the only parent-like figure they’ve ever known. They never knew their own creator, whoever the person who actually made them even was, they only ever knew Alan. It stings, how all of his weird recent behavior now makes sense. He hadn’t needed time. He had never loved them as much as they, apparently mistakenly, thought he did in the first place. It leaves them feeling empty and bereft, at a loss for what to do with themselves now.

And Alan is left totally oblivious to just how badly he’s just hurt them all.

And totally oblivious to what he himself has just lost, the potential for what could have been.

…At least, until he goes through some Character Development and inevitably has some Realizations that “Oh shit, those actually ARE my kids, oh fuck what have I done?!” And he needs to claw back the gangs’ love and affection and trust they’d since given up on.

* - [Or at least that’s how it always felt for me, watching AvG reactions, though that could just be because IRL Alan just sounds kinda bland and introverted in most of his commentary on his own animations lmao “I mean I like Orange.” Bro that is your main character that has been spearheading your entire career for a literal decade, why do you sound about as enthusiastic about him as if someone just asked you about your favorite weather type lmao jk jk]

[anouchard]

More a nerdy shout out than a question I suppose but, it's such an absolute delight to be going about the internet and there you are lol

Star Trek meme on my Twitter - Anusia

Awesome MagPost on Tumblr - Anusia

Open Maleovent discord - Anusia chatting away lol

It's so awesome how you are just one of us who also happened to get to play in the world we all love.

I guess my question is being a fan and in all of the nerdy fandoms does it change how you view your professional world?

This is a really interesting question! I'll try and keep it relatively succinct - there are potential essays in this one.

To be perfectly honest, it's taken me a little while to feel at ease being unabashedly enthusiastic about things since being cast as a character who is part of a universe that once elicited that same response from me as a listener. One of the reasons I allowed myself (yes, it really was that calculated) to become a fan of Malevolent was because I knew I would never be cast in it, and could therefore keep that non-professional engagement separate to a degree (I really connect with it far more as a writer than as an actor anyway - both Magnus and Malev are very much what I identify with and also aspire to in terms of themes, style, and character arcs).

That said, I think that at the end of the day, you have to really love this funny little industry, or any funny little industry of your choosing, to want to chase your dreams within it with any level of grit, fire, and force. Being a fan of something is a compliment, an expression of adoration and respect, and my way of showing that was attempting to turn podcast work into a career. If I hadn't loved and connected with Magnus as much as I did, I may never have been inspired to go into voice acting, and may never have reached out to RQ at all. The element of serendipity is not lost on me, but it also feels like a very natural progression of events.

Getting friends out of it, though? People I trust and care about and feel supported and inspired by every step of the way? That's the true miracle here, for me. There ain't no plan for that.

Side note: very glad to be an absolute delight. I'm just vibing, tbh, so that's very kind of you. I've had such a warm welcome here generally and I will always appreciate that. 😊

Hey, look, it turned into an essay anyway. Ah well.

[verecunda]

I personally see that "torture" conversation again as gaslighting from Annatars side, to be honest. Because (I double checked again to make sure i am not mistaken) "Never in Tolkien's lore does Morgoth torture Sauron. Some moments could imply such an act, such as in The Silmarillion where it is mentioned that Morgoth would have, if victorious, destroyed even the beings that followed him" - So to me it has that even ... Crueler twist of Annatar just trying to gaslight Celebrimbor again. Maybe that is just me though! And maybe in the series Morgoth really did unimaginable to Mairon. WHO KNOWS

Hi, Anon! This got long-winded, so bear with me here. XD

That is certainly a viable reading of the scene, and I definitely think we should never take Sauron at his word because, well, he’s Sauron. But honestly, I think it’s much more interesting, much more horrifying, if he is being honest here.

First, to get the lore stuff out of the way: agreed, nowhere in the books are we told Morgoth ever tortured him. But at the same time, we’re never told he didn’t. Sauron was obviously his most valuable and trusted servant, but he still was that - a servant, an underling, subject to his master’s caprices. And we don’t have any scenes of them interacting directly that allow us to gauge their relationship; we just have a handful of references that can be extrapolated in multiple ways. (For full disclosure: I’m an enthusiastic Angbang shipper, and I tend to view their relationship as more or less positive, one of the only good things they have going for them, but I try to keep an open mind on what canon does/doesn’t tell me.)

Most notably, take the scene where Sauron is defeated by Lúthien and Huan. She tells him she’ll send his spirit back to Angband : “There everlastingly thy naked self shall endure the torment of his scorn, pierced by his eyes.” Whereupon Sauron flees, and we hear nothing more of him till after the War of Wrath. We don’t know anything that he does in the meantime; we don’t even know if he returns to Morgoth’s service (the Lay of Leithian does suggest it, but the published Silmarillion gives us nothing either way). Whether or not Morgoth would actually punish him for his failure is probably beside the point: the point is that Sauron clearly believes punishment is a likely outcome. There are other ways you could parse this bit (and I do have Feelings about it!!) but the most obvious reading is that it’s terror of his master’s likely response that sends Sauron into hiding. So overall, it’s an ambiguous scenario, but there is certainly room to interpret a darker take on their relationship, and even allowing for deliberate ambiguity, it does seem to me that the show creators have chosen to explore that darker take.

To return to this particular scene, I don’t think he’s trying to deceive Celebrimbor any more - now that his true identity is revealed, outright deception is no longer going to work, because why would Celebrimbor believe anything else he says? Better to reel him back in with the truth. In that scene, I think Sauron is actually trying to make him understand his grand vision for the “healing” of Middle-earth. We already know he believes that's what he's doing. I don’t think he views Celebrimbor as an equal, no way, but I think he does consider that Celebrimbor’s ambitions chime with his own.

But crucially, his failure here is that in baring his soul and talking about the genuine suffering he’s gone through, he inadvertently reveals just how warped and ultimately irredeemable his own mindset has become. We actually saw this first with Galadriel at the end of s1: Sauron reveals his relief at Morgoth’s defeat, his feeling that a “great, clenched fist” had been released from about his neck - yet just a couple of minutes after that, he repels her because he admits that he sees saving Middle-earth and ruling it as the same thing.

It’s the same in the tower scene. Revealing his torture by Morgoth does engage Celebrimbor’s sympathy, but he loses it almost at once when he starts talking about his pain being a triumph of his own willpower, then especially when he breaks out all the textbook abuser lines about how Celebrimbor has “forced” him to hurt and deceive him. I don't think he would have said all that if he was just lying. All that self-justification strikes me as the response of someone who has suffered, but has never found a healthy way to process any of it, and who has ultimately gone on to continue the cycle of abuse. And when Celebrimbor demolishes all these self-justifications - “You can deceive even yourself” - I think Sauron's expression there speaks volumes. That’s the look of a Maia who has just been hit where it hurts, because rather than being taken in, Celebrimbor has just confronted him with exactly how damaged and fucked up he really is.

[lurkingshan]

Helloooo, Shan! This is a bit out of left field but it’s something I’ve been wondering for a while. BL has developed more as a genre and shown itself to be increasingly sociopolitically aware (whether or not it effectively engages with that awareness beyond marketing is another thing), do you have thoughts on any sort of progression of how women and girls have been portrayed? Or observations on the general state of women and girls in BL? It seems to me their roles have become meatier, not just one-dimensional femme fatales or fujoshi. Or am I projecting a false narrative of genre evolution? 🤔

Hey Megan, thanks for sending! I love an out of left field ask. And I agree with you, I do think there has been a clear evolution in the way women characters are portrayed in BL, and I have been making note of it where I see it.

It used to be that female characters in BL were mostly just there to be antagonists, either as villainous femme fatales trying to break up the couple (like Plern Pleng in TWM) or fujoshis inserting themselves into the main couple's relationship in really inappropriate and fetishizing ways (like Pang in Love Sick). Even the precious few decent women characters from early BL (like Manow from UWMA) are still really only there as side characters who provide support to the boys and/or a bit of comic relief. Women in early BL were either problematic or kind of an afterthought in the narrative.

But more recently there have been BL dramas featuring women who are more fully fleshed out and actually a crucial part of the story. This is not linear and consistent, of course--there are BLs airing as we speak, like Knock Knock Boys and Blue Boys, that are still relying on women as primary antagonists--but there has been some growth. Here are some of the characters I find particularly notable in regards to the role they play in the narrative:

Ae Ri, The Eighth Sense

Ae Ri was a notable character because the narrative set us up to think she was going to be a typical femme fatale. She seemed to like Ji Hyun and we were naturally inclined to assume she would be an obstacle to him pursuing Jae Won, until the show completely turned that on its head and made her a knowing ally instead. It was a delightful surprise and she remained an important support and get a grip friend for Ji Hyun throughout the story.

Nara, La Pluie

Nara is another in the category of the subverted femme fatale trope, but this show took that much further by writing her with so much empathy and making her a fully fleshed out character with her own arc and even the start of a new romance by the end. It is still the best treatment of an ex-girlfriend character I have ever seen in a BL.

Fujisaki/Pai, Cherry Magic

Speaking of trope subversion, let's give a shoutout to these two corrective takes on the fujoshi archetype. Each version of this story did it a bit differently, but the common thread was that Fujisaki and Pai only wanted the best for their friends, and kept a firm line on how much to interfere in their relationship. Fujisaki is gentle and kind, offering small encouragements and nice gestures. Pai is much more of an enthusiastic fangirl so I was a bit weary at the start of her story, but the show used her fannish interests as an opportunity to model respectful fan behavior and I was quite pleased in the end.

Yiwa, Wedding Plan

And of course, I have to mention the current title holder for best female character in a BL, Wedding Plan's Yiwa. She is not only a great character in terms of having a fully formed personality, clear motivations, and a great set of relationships, she is also the engine that drives the entire narrative. I am still kinda amazed she exists.

This is separate but related to the recent increase in GL content and GL side couples in BLs, which is also getting steadily better. And I want both! I want solid GL dramas where the girls own the narrative, and I want BLs to write women better when they choose to include them in the story. I'm encouraged by the progress we've already seen.

[yourfuckingmomdotcom]

Yandere Butler x Autistic Reader

The autistic girlies, guys, or otherwise deserve yandere content tailored to ourselves, and I’m sick of pretending otherwise /hj.

The general idea is that this takes place in a time before an autism diagnosis even existed, like the Victorian Era, but arguably the DSM III added autism in 1980, so you could be in any of those times and still technically be timewise correct. But also you can just imagine him as a modern dude who doesn’t get what’s up.

Oh also, this is inspired a lot by @kiame-sama​ ​. Do I know what a Chrollo is? Nope. Did I love the fic she made? Fuck yea. (Accidentally tagged someone else at first, sorry you didn’t see this!) CW: Non-consentual cuddling, mild drugging, yandere, autistic reader, sensory overload mentions, general violence and murder stuff

🂡 Yandere Butler was brought on by your uncle after your parents unfortunate passing. You had been passed the helm of owning their small but thriving gunsmith operations, as well as the family house and assets. Being unwed and rather young, the butler was sent to manage the things that seriously stressed you out. He, as well as your other associates, assume you are just someone of a delicate constitution, and therefore he’s always fretting over you. Initially he didn’t get it, he did his very emotionally separated duties, but he noticed how much you struggled with specific things, and how you absolutely lit up at the things you love. He found it charming and enthralling, and he could no longer separate his duties and himself. 🂡 Yandere Butler will listen to you ramble for hours over your special interest. Now, how much he understands depends entirely on the content, but he will sit there regardless. As you excitedly go over every detail as best as you can trying to get him to understand what makes you so enthusiastic, he’ll ask leading questions and generally try and find ways to engage deeper in the things you enjoy. It’s the least he could do, since it seems to make you so happy.

🂡 Yandere Butler will overstep professional boundaries as long as you’re unaware of them. He appreciates what he sees as feign innocence and gullibleness that allows him to do things that wouldn’t be possible otherwise. With the low oversight of his position in the house, as well as the authority he holds, he uses this to sneak touches under the guise of fixing something with your garments or your posture. He’ll take what feels like decades to get you dresses in the morning as he slowly glides stockings or woolen socks over your legs, placing the garter so gently atop your thigh. The small ways you allow him to touch you are to him the highlight of his day, especially if you’re really touch adverse.

🂡 Though, Yandere Butler, does understand that your comfort comes first. He finds it somewhat enjoyable to find a middle ground between sensory-safe clothing, as well as clothes deemed acceptable by wider society. He makes sure that your tailor uses the specific fiber and weave to make sure you have an exceptionally predictable texture to fall back on with any garment. He also will find ways to get you the right silhouette while avoiding a lot of structure if that bothers you. If all else fails, he might resort to more homey garments.

🂡 Yandere Butler pays close attention to your nutrition as well, always making sure to get sensory safe foods as well as some you’ve never tried before to widen your horizons just a bit. If the maids and chefs cook something wrong, or in a way you find unpalatable, there will absolutely be hell to pay. Well, moreso just a very loud scolding after you’ve retired to bed for the night, but it still hurts their feelings... He keeps his more unpleasant reprimands for when you’ve fallen asleep because he understands that you feel bad for the workers in your home when he gets like this, so he just does it out of sight. If ever invited to a required formal event, god forbid, he’ll always bring a snack and a handkerchief in case you really didn’t like what was available.

🂡 Yandere Butler also manages your medications, vitamins, and any other substances you take throughout the day. Don’t even consider doing something elicit or uncouth such as smoking or drinking more than a flute of champagne, and if you do something more elicit you’ll probably give him a heart attack. But this unadulterated access to these things lets him do things that are very ungenteel. He requires you take a sleep aid, practically knocks you out, and he takes this time to cuddle you while in your sleep. He knows you’re usually not one for unprompted blunt  affection, so he only does so when you’re sleeping. He finds your resting face adorable, and he prefers to hold you in the honeymoon hug position.

🂡 Yandere Butler, who due to your “delicate constitution” is usually helping you through sensory overloads. If you would grant him the honor, he’ll hold you tenderly in his arms as you ease back into comfort, slowly rocking both of you back and forth. Or, if you’re not ok with touching, he’ll prepare your chambers with dim lights, comforting sounds, and your bed all made and smelling of fragrances you find soothing. Despite not knowing the actual root of this behavior, he’s surprisingly accommodating and has gotten your sensory needs down to a science… which is sort of the problem.

🂡 The Yandere Butler figured out that going outside into town caused you mild to a great distress. So he made your life more simple, no more going out frivolously!... You were confused, and when you asked for more information he basically put a ban on any outside activity that wasn’t business or a disaster within the house. You got really sad about that, as you needed to go out and get things frequently for your hobbies. He ignored your short pleas to go out, initially only responding with something along the lines of, “Then go out to the gardens.”, but he knew he couldn’t keep you inside forever.

🂡 So, Yandere Butler scheduled every “unnecessary” outdoor event to be a sensory nightmare. He hates to see you so distressed, but it’s the only way you’ll learn apparently. This is only made worse by the fact he’s essentially made a sensory heaven inside of your manor, so when you go out it’s a lot worse since you’re so used to being catered to that the sensory discomfort becomes full of sensory pain. And you and him both know you can’t make a scene, lest you be ousted from high society and made a mockery of, so you’re hastily rushed back home to be coddled by him once again. It’s a very negative cycle you’ve got yourself caught up in, and it’s extremely difficult to get out of that cycle. Eventually, he hopes you’ll send a maid out to collect whatever you need instead of trying to leave him again, but until that time comes he’ll do this as much as you need until you get the memo.

🂡 Yandere Butler also manages many of your social and business connections. He’ll whisper in your ear how to deal with boring things like business decisions, stocks, and all the choices he doesn’t want you fretting about. But, he also will make sure to restrict any suitors or and non-business social events. He’ll throw out letters for frivolous parties, as he doesn’t want you tainted by others. He also will throw out suitor letters, which can make some interactions at formal business dinners a bit awkward for you when many suitors come up to you to ask about if anything got through, but the butler will whisk you away and explain that the mail must just be slow. 🂡 But one day, while a maid was cleaning the butler's room in the servants quarters, a maid finds the letters thrown out in his personal rubbish bin. She reads through them all rather confused, wondering why these wouldn’t be given directly to the master of the house. She wasn’t one to interfere with others' business, but something ticked her off. But as she’s about to walk off with an engagement letter, the butler walks in with 3 more in hand. There was a panic and a struggle from both of them, as the butler made sure she’d never be able to tell her tale.

🂡 That night, the Yandere Butler burnt the butchered maid, as well as all of the letters he’d previously thrown out to ash in the manors incinerator. He’d make sure not to make such a mistake again…

🂡 The next day, Yandere Butler makes you a special breakfast and brings it to your room. He coos, explaining that a particular maid stole from the wine cellar, and as she dropped and cracked the bottle, the red wine spilt across the floor. After that he let her go from her position, and he needed time to clean the mess himself, apologizing that your schedule was messed with and that you’re confined to the room for the day to protect your garments. Everytime you walk past the servant quarters door, you see a small red stain and remember the taste of red wine.

[gay4abby]

TW: sh — If you’re not comfortable with this no worries but I was wondering if you would write a Jordan li x fem reader fic where they are kinda rivals (like reader is a total academic overachiever and just gets on Jordan’s nerves) but then Jordan finds her in the bathroom or somewhere after/while she self harmed/cut herself and realizes that they have to stop being an asshole for a second and help her and just the realization that they don’t know everything that goes on in people’s lives.

Been Something More …

warnings, huge self harm warning, angst, anger outbursts, attempted sexual assault. pairings, jordan li x reader. requests r open, it takes me a minute to get thru them tho so i do value ur patience ‹𝟥 hope u enjoyyyy

12:15pm

If there’s one thing you know you absolutely love doing is pissing off Jordan Li. Number one at something was instilled in you since birth, it didn’t convenience Jordan in anyway. The rush of being better at something too good of a drug they could give up coke. Jordan was the one you always have to one up, the one where if they’re good at welding you have to be fantastic at it. Where Jordan’s ranking is number three, yours is number two. Essentially you guys are always neck and neck with each other and it irritates Jordan to no end. There hasn’t been a day at God U where they felt like they were on top because you were always there to kick them down a notch.

It wasn’t always like this, though. When you and Jordan first met, you were both wide eyed freshmen’s that were hoping to get into crime fighting school, get under Brink’s good graces and possibly make it to the 7. You had that dream, but you always felt like you weren’t enough for it. No one needed to know that though, not even Jordan. Little did you know Jordan felt the same way. Anyone who had the same aspirations as you had to know their place. General requirement classes were on every freshman’s time table and you found yourself in the same class as the timid teen.

They barely spoke a word to you as you sat next to each other. You noticed their fingers pulling at one another underneath the table, but had the straightest face to anyone who can see. It was applaudable, but you tried not to make it shown that you were watching them. Jordan carried an air of confidence, your body tense, mouth tightly shut. Unnoticed by Jordan. It was a wonder how you guys are the way you are today, constantly fighting and bickering when just freshmen year you didn’t think you could outshine someone like Jordan. The yearn of a hollow heart where it once was filled with a brief friendship from you and Jordan, you really don’t know where it went wrong.

You passed out flyers, enthusiastic energy blooming from you as you engaged with the students who passed by the courtyard of the fourth quad on campus. The housing system always confused you when you first started out, your understanding of it coming from a rival. You felt his eyes bore into you, your smiling almost fading, the lull feeling of wanting to crawl away somewhere and die was welcomed. As much of a front you put up, it always felt demeaning when Jordan would turn their nose down on you.

You used to yearn for them to look at you lovingly only for it to be squashed like a child’s dream of being a mythical creature. “Vote for ____ for Student Council President! Justice is an action that deserves traction. Wouldn’t you want your voice to be heard?”

“Yeah, your future president will make sure all your needs are met. A vote for them is a vote for universal accessibility!” Your choice for your team was all your best friends idea and by the outcome of those accepting pins and proudly placing them on their attire, you knew you were in good hands. Almost all of the flyers that were in your hand were tossed out on to the floor, the aggressiveness of the impact alerting you of who it was. Your own attitude began bubbling underneath the surface, turning your body with a strained smile on your glossed lips. Jordan’s smug look made you breathe heavily, free hand fist curling slowly as you pulled it behind your back.

Seeing them was one thing, knowing they were another one of the candidates was another.

They were the last thing you wanted to see, but going to God U, being amongst the top five, it was fucking inevitable. “Watch where you’re going, I would hate it if someone would to hurt that pretty face,” it was malicious. Like inkling on a threat and it had you wondering if they were serious or not because it was always hard to tell with Jordan. Your jaw clenched, the strain sending a beaming pain through your temples. Your nail dug into your palm. You’re sure it drew blood. “There’s nothing as insulting than being called pretty by you.” You spit back, the grind in your teeth at the last part causing Jordan’s smirk to turn in size that even you wondered how it didn’t fall off his face.

How you wished you could sear it off their face for it to never appear again. “You’re so fucking funny,” Jordan bit, long legs carrying them away from you as they walk backwards, giving you the bird before turning back around. How did it even come to this? At one point you genuinely thought that you both could be good friends, the kind that makes it out of university and grow meaningful connections outside of yourselves that brings you closer together. You thought a lot of things about Jordan. You never thought you’d end up hating their guts.

The lot of you continued handing out flyers as your best friend kept a watchful eye on you from behind the table. It was unsettling succumbing to the thought of surrender, but for your sake, your best friend knew not to stir anything up when it came to Jordan, no matter how much she wanted to. Besides it wasn’t her place to say anything, she knew how you were and to cause anything to ruffle the waters was the last thing she wanted to do.

20:05 (8:05pm)

“So, the last of the flyers were passed out at the courtyard. Since the elections tonight we don’t need to make anymore. We have enough hanging on the bulletins around campus, so, we’re all set!” Everyone cheered as you all were gathered around in the small space that was reserved for the campaign meeting. The people on your team put in so much work — you almost felt like you were slaving them, but with reassurance from them that they volunteered to do this, you weren’t forcing them to do anything.

They knew you were the perfect candidate for president. And you were reminded of it constantly.

“I appreciate every single one of you for putting in all the hard work to make this campaign possible for me. I really couldn’t have done it without any of you,” it was so sincere that you teetering on crying almost. Waterlines slowly filling up. Prior to your life before Godlkin University, it wasn’t something you were automatically proud of; the sheer thought of a full house feeling vacant wasn’t something you can easily tell someone.

They’d think you’re being ungrateful, for gods sake.

You drowned out most of what everyone was saying. That dreadful feeling creeping slowly, wrapping around you like it wanted to cocoon you into a blanket of worry and self doubt. This was typical, especially in a moment of an achievement that you couldn’t imagine for yourself. You knew you were a shoo in for the win, but it didn’t matter how much you were sure, how high your confidence in the moment was; the one thing you knew for sure was the voice in the back of your mind. Way deep to the very crevice of your brain telling you something is going to go wrong. And when it’s right you never respond to it very well.

20:59 (8:59pm)

Everyone stood around their computers and tablets, monitoring the gradual progress of the ballots. You were nervous of course, but you knew. You knew you were going to win, you knew that you were going to be able to give a voice to those that didn’t have the same advantages most funded students did at this school. And you weren’t going to fuck it up for absolutely no one.

It was yours for the taking and you worked so hard for something you never had the opportunity to do in grade school. Only a couple more seconds before the lot of you found out it was you — there was a sudden high pitched sound that drowned out the countdown to the announcement, clammy hands touched your heated skin. Your throat felt tight, your smile tight and frozen as you tried to breathe. Everything was moving slow, you didn’t realise your name was being called until you were shook to reality. “Hey, it’s alright. It was a bust, but you were runner up if they’d–”

“I don’t need your backhanded pity,” you snapped, the expression on your face made her whimper and cower back as you took a strained breath. Your heart dropped way past your stomach, it was completely out of your body before they finished saying that wretched, nonsensical pest’s name. They were invading parts of your life that you were…fine with letting go, but the one thing you were looking forward to, knew that would be yours no matter what was stripped from you like clothes.

You felt like you were in a dream where you were in front of everyone in just your underwear. It was unraveling your mind to the point where you would do absolutely anything to be buried six feet under. “Let’s let loose and forget about tonight, huh? There’s a rager being hosted by Lambda Phi Epsilon…what better way to blow off some steam than to blow an actual steamer?” Layla’s voice pulled you back to reality. You turned your head in surprise weighing the option in your head. Gilmore Girls definitely was not a hot fuck. “If you can get me alone with Luke, I’ll make sure you have a years supply of Nature Valley granola bars.”

Layla squealed pulling you along and out of the dorm to get the both of you ready for an unforgettable night.

22:30 (10:30pm)

On campus parties aren’t something you frequented to for pass time. Mainly because you didn’t care for that. Partially because you knew you’d see Jordan there and their face alone can ruin an entire week for you. But tonight? Tonight you weren’t going to allow anything or anyone to ruin your night of fun. Carefree, brute fun without any sort of supervision. You earned it, you deserve it. Layla was nowhere to be found, failure on her end to hook you up with Golden Boy. But that’s okay since you were nursing your eighth…ninth drink? You kind of lost count after the round of shots Elliot brought over for everyone standing around the island.

The room was divided into twos, doubles of everything showing up in your vision but you couldn’t care less. The only thing that mattered was getting another drink in your system to make it all blur into one. You stumbled around in the kitchen, grabbing a red solo cup and stumbling again towards the keg. Your unawareness of eyes following you left you open for any random party goer to warp you into their grasp. “Whoops! So…rry!” Your giggles filled the air as you dropped to your knees after almost knocking over a passerby while trying to regain balance again. You were pumping the keg trying to get the beverage through, unsuccessfully pouring any beer into your cup.

“Aw, don’t pout. Look I got you.” A smooth voice rang through your ears before you even register it. You looked up a dazed expression on your features, moving over a bit to give him some room. The stranger grabbed your cup, pumping the keg until it spewed out more beer into your cup, your hands coming together to aggressively clap at the revelation. “You did it! How’d you do that?” Your words slurred as his hand grabbed you underneath your armpit to help you stand up and to give you your drink. You held on to him, he was broad and tough to the touch; you couldn’t even remember the last time you felt up a guy.

His hands slyly made its way around your hips, pulling you close to him as he practically carried you away from the scene in the kitchen. Everyone around you was unaware of the two of you, drunk or high off their asses. You were unaware of the situation at hand too, you had no idea who this guy was, but because you were unsuccessful in bedding Golden Boy — despite him having a girlfriend. You’d admit you were even willing to do a little home wrecking if meant getting destroyed by his golden dick.

But the one you were practically hanging off of would have to do. The red solo cup barely made it to your lips before it was pushed out of your hand, a whine escaping you as you carried up the stairs of the overflowing frat house. “My drink…we have to get another!” The guy could barely hear you, nodding along anyway as he continued to drag you up the stairs. You were growing antsy due to the alcohol in your system slowly fading away, but the haziness was still there. “It’s alright I’ll get you another one soon, baby.”

It was fleeting, the way he said it, like he just wanted you to shut up. You didn’t take it this way, though. You could barely understand what was going on around you. A cheer was heard from downstairs, but it soon became muffled as you heard a door shut. The clink sound rebounded on deaf ears. “This isn’t where are – the drinks aren’t… Where…” It was slurred. The guy had you leaning against a wall, hands roaming around the region below your stomach. You hummed, head lolling off to the side.

Everything around you was muffled, the guy talking to you, the music outside the room, the sudden banging on the door that the guy tried to ignore. “We’re busy!” He yelled before going back to you, how’d you get to the bed? You were motionless underneath him and he didn’t seem to care at all. You didn’t hear anything until you came back to reality to the commotion unfolding in front of you. “You don’t see they’re wasted out of their mind? What the fuck, dude?” The guy was shoved back into the nightstand, the lamp toppling over. Your eyes connected with Jordan’s tall stature, the aggressiveness of his push causing the guy to grow red in the face.

“Fuck you, man! They were practically jumping my bones, they wanted it!”

He didn’t even get the chance to stand up straight enough before Jordan landed a clean one on his cheek. With the way his body swung to the side, he was going to be out cold for a week. Fury wouldn’t be able to describe the feeling gorging from within you, “What the fuck, Jordan! You asshole, you’re such an asshole!”

“I’m the asshole? Sorry for fucking saving you from getting raped by the fraternity fiend! Do you realise who you were just with?” You scoffed as you tried to push him back, but being unable to due to his rigid form. “You had no right! I wanted to him to fuck me!”

“Right, so then you can go cry about it and tell everyone who will listen just how fucked your life is! ‘Oh poor ol’ ____, I was taken advantage off while I was drunk off my ass. Why does bad things always happen to me? Why am I such a fuck up that nothing can ever go right?’” Your heart couldn’t even drop from your chest because it was gone the minute it was announced that Jordan won the elections. You felt like eating yourself alive the way a snake does when depressed. You wanted to be nonexistent in a world that was never in your favour. So, Jordan was right. To you, he was right.

“You took everything from me, you know that? I just wanted this one thing and you took that too.” It was barely even a whisper, you shoved your shoulder against Jordan’s as you stumbled your way out of the room. “Where the fuck are you going? You’re not going home by yourself.”

“Of course I’m fucking not! Contrary to popular belief, I can come to a party responsibly and have a buddy when leaving!” You didn’t even give Jordan another chance to stop you before you slammed the door close, making haste to text your sober buddy to meet you outside. One fuck up after the other and you couldn’t even have a night of reprieve to drown your sorrows in liqueur for losing. This was the worst night of your entire life.

03:45am

Sobering up after the unfortunate events that occurred at the party made you pity yourself. Although Jordan was right, having them as your saviour left a horrid taste in your mouth. It was all hitting you at once. Sitting in your dorm room in the dark could do that to you. Streaks of tears stained your cheeks. You’ve been sitting in the same spot your sober buddy had put you in for three hours. Makeup still caked on your face but it was old looking now, the crying didn’t help it stay intact either, what a shock. The only way you were going to get rid of this feeling was a shower. And not just any typical shower.

The communal showers should be vacant during this time of night. Everyone either studying, partying or sleeping. You mustered up enough energy after crying for three hours straight to get up, strip yourself of your party clothes, grab your shower caddy and head off to the showers. You breathed a sigh relief after seeing no one was in here and you didn’t hear anything so you were in the clear making quick work of turning the shower on. You took the stall further down, away from the entrance so you could have some privacy.

It wasn’t something you were proud of doing, but it was something you knew that you needed to do to let yourself know that no matter what, the pain will always be there to comfort you. To mask what dreadful emotion you’re feeling so you can forget what it feels like. Fortunately for you, the showers had benches in them, it wasn’t hard for you to cut yourself because you were not about to sit on those communal shower floors. One slice and you hissed, the blood pouring from the open wound. You didn’t care to have the blood swirl from underneath the curtain because no one was there.

Or so you thought.

“Hey…uh…is everything okay in there?” You silently jumped at the voice that rang through the vacant occupied washroom. And it wasn’t just anyone’s voice. The soft, almost velvety tone would have comforted you at a time where you thought you were both friends. Now it just sends an unusual chill up your spine. “I see the blood. Are you okay?” They continued, hearing them move closer to the curtain. You couldn’t stay silent because they already knew someone was in here, plus the goddamn shower was on! “Everything’s fine, just, go away.”

Jordan called your name and it sounded concerned. Moving closer to the curtain, their delicate hand grabbed on to it, hesitating a little, “I’m going to open this, okay?” It made you jump up slightly, slipping on your foot and blood to collide with the floor. Jordan didn’t wait for an answer before opening the curtain to find you wet, naked and covered in your own blood. There was at least four cuts running down your inner thigh. The worry on Jordan’s face caused your heart to clench and you hurried to cover yourself with what little you had.

“What the fuck! Are you okay? Fuck,” she leaned down, the towel that was over her shoulder long discarded as they reached out to tug you up from your underarms. You didn’t have the energy to fight back, but that’s what losing blood tends to do to you. Jordan shut the water off after getting wet through their pyjamas. They sat you down with care on to the bench examining your thighs. You weren’t sure why they were making such a fuss over it, the both of you hating each other like your life depended on it.

“Why? What the fuck?” She looked at you with her big brown eyes and what shocked you the most was it wasn’t filled with the usually flaming hatred that you always saw. You couldn’t hold it in anymore and tears streamed down your cheeks once more. You let yourself go, the impact of the hit against the wall causing a pain to run through your skull. “Ow…”

“Come on, get up.” After reaching for your towel and securing it around you, she lifted you up from the bench and used all her strength in her female form to lug you out of the washroom.

04:27am

You didn’t expect to ever be in Jordan’s dorm room, let alone on their bed, naked, and getting patched up by Jordan! After you guys had fell off, anything remotely close to friendly activities seemed out of the ballpark for you and her. Literally impossible to be in the same room together. Who knew self harming was going to be the thing that brought you both back together?

It was silent for the rest of the time she spent covering up your wounds. You know for sure she saw the other healed over one’s, just littered across your thighs. You couldn’t read their face as they taped over the gauze, moving back to put away the first aid kit. The silence was killing you, you never realised just how much tension you both held until you were alone with them. The clattering of the kit being stored away was the only sound that rang through the room.

You can hear a pin drop if you so pleased.

You were still on their bed, wrapped in a towel and shivering slightly. Jordan took note of this and walked back to their closet to pull out a sweater and some sweats. Upon noticing, you jumped from the bed immediately stating that you should go. “I’m not leaving you alone just so you can hurt yourself again. You’re staying here for the night. Until I know you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Any sane person would be able to tell you that,” Jordan said sternly. You both were in a state off now, eyebrows furrowing. Jordan had enough before they threw you the clothes, which you reluctantly caught. “Put them on. Now.” Without any further argument, you stripped yourself of the towel and slid the clothes on. They were warm and it smelled like her, too. You can’t remember the last time you even hugged Jordan. Wearing their clothes made you realise how much you missed them.

You sniffed as you fix the hem of the sweater. It was a little big on you, the sleeves covering your hands making them look like paws. Jordan hid their smile before walking over to her mini fridge to bring out a bottle of water and gummy bears. “Here.” You accepted, no questions asked. Silence rang through again. The only sound this time was the crackling of the plastic bag and your swallowing as you sat on the floor, Jordan in their desk chair. It was eating away at Jordan to ask why. She couldn’t imagine you feeling that way about yourself so much so to cut yourself.

She always saw you as someone who was resilient, didn’t back down. Never took no as an answer when it came to getting what you want. Jordan saw you as someone they always admired to be. Which made them realise that everyone has their own silent battles going on and that they should be kinder even if it is to a stranger. Even if it is towards you. “I know what you’re thinking. ‘How could you do this? Your life is perfect!’” Perfect came out of your mouth like it was a bad tasting pasta. “I never thought that.”

“You’re lying. I know you do.” You couldn’t stop the tears from falling again and Jordan rushed over to sit beside you on the floor. The haribo wrapper was crushed in your fist as you tried to hold the tears back. It all came rushing out like word vomit, “You were my friend. You were the first person I connected with on campus. I came to this school with high hopes, but I didn’t come here thinking I was going to make an enemy out of someone I admire so much.

“You had no idea how much I looked up to you. How much I wanted to be apart of something I knew you were going to be apart of someday. You had it all. And I just wanted to be…I wanted us to be a paired equal,” you took a second to breathe which made Jordan cut in. “You didn’t use the past tense in admire…does that mean…”

“You fucking asshole. That’s your take away? How much I admired you?” Jordan stuttered a bit before answering you.

“No, that’s not. Fuck. No, I’m sorry. I mean. I admire you too and you don’t even realise.” That confused you. Jordan Li, ranking at number two on the charts, admires you? Someone who could never outmatch an opponent like Jordan admires you? And don’t even get me started on the fact that admire is in present tense, not past. “I’ve always thought you one of a kind. Someone my parents would love more than their own child. Granted I have other siblings, but they don’t count. You’re another Supe with incredibly unique powers. I couldn’t imagine going against someone like you.”

“So what’s with all the animosity for the past three years, Jordan?”

“I thought you hated me.”

“I didn’t! I thought you hated me!” You exclaimed into the otherwise quiet room. It was baffling to find out that it was just a case of fucking miscommunication. And come to think of it, there wasn’t a significant event that happened between the two of you to cause such strife in your friendship. Jordan realised she needed to make amends. “Well, I didn’t. At least not all the time. And what I said earlier, it was uncalled for. It’s never your fault, I hope you know that.”

You nodded, “I know, but you were right. I probably would’ve just whined about it when I could’ve just said no.”

“No, don’t do that. You were intoxicated, barely in your right mind. It’s all his fault. Not yours,” you felt her hand slide into yours as she said this, squeezing it gently those wide brown eyes wouldn’t leave you for a second. “Can I also ask…”

“It’s something I’ve always done. Even before I came to God U. Growing up in a household like mine you find other ways to make yourself forget the on going torment from your parents,” you whispered, squeezing her hand back. You leaned over placing your head on her shoulder and she automatically wrapped her arm around you to pull you closer. “I’m sorry for not being there,” Jordan whispered, as if they said it any louder it would ruin the quiet moment the both of you have going on. “I’m sorry for not being there, either.”

“Promise me something?”

You nodded in agreement, “We will always have each other no matter what, who or when. I don’t want you to be a stranger again.”

“I promise.”

[edosianorchids901]

When You Fall Asleep

Ace Omens Hugfest prompt - "an accidental hug"

Rome, 41 AD

“Would you like any more oysters?” Aziraphale asked, leaning forward to acquire a bowl of grapes. “Or are you all set?”

“Nnnh, this m’ set. I don’t, er. Eat big meals all that often.” Blinking slowly, Crowley pushed his tiny dark glasses up onto the top of his head. They knocked into his silly silver laurel wreath, and he hissed in irritation. “Guh. Here, hold this.”

He wrenched the wreath off and put it on Aziraphale’s head. It slid to one side and bumped into his ear, threatening to topple off.

With a chuckle, Aziraphale adjusted the wreath and fluffed his hair up to accommodate it. “Very stylish. What is with your outfit, anyway? I don’t think togas are supposed to be black, are they?”

“M’ not gonna be caught dead in white, am I?” Crowley snapped, snatching the jug of wine. “Probably literally caught dead. D’ya have any idea what Hell would probably do to me if I showed up wearing white? Besides, blood shows on white. S’ not exactly a good thing for a demon to be wearing.”

Aziraphale frowned, confused by the sudden outburst. “I know you’re a demon, but it’s not as if you’re running around stabbing people. Are you?”

“No! I’m the one getting stabbed, usually. And beaten, cut, whipped, whatever.” Crowley’s irritated expression slid to deeply glum. “It’s better when I can stay on Earth. I like Earth, even when I’m having to deal with bastards like Caligula. At least it’s not… I can get away from it all, up here.”

“Ah.” Unsure what to say, Aziraphale twisted his hands together. He eyed Crowley, suddenly quite chilled. “And you had to go to Hell recently?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

Even Aziraphale, who sometimes struggled with such things, couldn’t miss the heavy sarcasm in Crowley’s voice. Swallowing hard, he slid a little closer on the dining couch. “I’m sorry. Is there, um… anything I can do to help?”

Crowley shrugged and poured his wine. He largely missed the cup, pouring wine all over his leg. “Shit. M’ not very coordin… whatever. Maybe had too much to drink.”

He drank more anyway, then clumsily topped off Aziraphale’s cup as well. Aziraphale drank, a trifle lost. He was quite intoxicated himself, and that made it rather difficult to determine the right course of action. But there must be something he could do.

“Are you injured anywhere?” he asked, leaning to look at Crowley’s toga. He didn’t see any bloodstains, but it was black, after all. Much harder to see blood, indeed. “I could heal you.”

“Nuh. Not hurt anymore.” Crowley swayed, reaching for the jug again. He let out a derisive snort. “Too bad we didn’t run into each other yesterday. Coulda used it then.”

“Oh! Oh dear.” Stricken, Aziraphale clutched his hands together again. “Oh, I didn’t realize you’d been hurt so recently. I’m sorry. You really ought to be resting, rather than me pestering you to spend time together.”

Something odd tugged at Crowley’s expression. He took another drink, then set the cup down and leaned back. His dark glasses fell off his head and vanished amid the pillows. “Nah. This is, er. A good distraction. Hanging out and everything. It’s loads better than just sitting around being all blah. And we can argue and stuff! I like when we get all…”

He did some sort of complicated flailing gesture with both arms, as if trying to demonstrate the enthusiastic verbal sparring they’d engaged in earlier. Then he overbalanced, toppled over, and slammed into Aziraphale’s side.

“Oh!” Aziraphale automatically caught him, pulling his limp body closer. “Crawley— Crowley, are you quite all right?”

“Nnnnyeaaah,” Crowley mumbled, eyes closed. “I just. Just. Er. Drinking.”

“Yes, you certainly have been drinking.” Concerned, Aziraphale hugged him closer. Then he realized he was hugging a demon, and wondered if he ought to stop.

But no. He didn’t want to stop. And Crowley was certainly too drunk to straighten up. Really, Aziraphale was more than slightly drunk, and therefore possessed lowered inhibitions. It was quite reasonable to hug a demon, under those circumstances.

Crowley had been rather tense all day, a fact Aziraphale had noticed earlier without realizing the cause. Now, though, Crowley went quite liquid in his arms, like a cat fitting into an oddly shaped container. “Oh. Wow. You’re really ridiculously warm, you know that? S’ like. Like. Sunning on a really soft rock or something.”

“Quite a compliment,” Aziraphale teased softly. “And you look rather thoroughly intoxicated and on the verge of dozing off.”

“Nnnhrgnmph.”

Smiling, Aziraphale cradled the demon to his side, Crowley’s head on his shoulder. Crowley had somehow gone even more liquid now, his lips slightly parted, eyes still closed. His breaths slowed, deepening. Perhaps he really was falling asleep.

Remarkable, that Crowley could feel safe enough to sleep here after being hurt so recently. The trust was quite an honor, really, and Aziraphale gladly settled in to watch over him.

[copperbadge]

I'm rereading fete for a king and I was wondering how/when Michealis found out that Gregory and Eddie were a "thing"? You got him putting the pieces together for Alana's pregnancy in R&R so did something similar happen off screan? Happy new years!

Happy new year!

When I was writing the novel I never really put thought into when Michaelis twigged to the fact that Gregory and Eddie were hooking up, but I've thought about it since. Michaelis became king and stayed king because he is very good at reading people and taking the temperature of the room, so he is sensitive to what's going on around him, especially when it's his family.

He definitely knew something was up with Gregory as soon as Jerry intercepted him to prevent him from walking in on Gregory and Eddie. He didn't know what, and he's also (as Alanna says in LATT) good at letting Gregory and his cousins be adults and make their own mistakes, so he let it go, but it sharpened his radar.

He doesn't encounter Eddie much after that -- the first time he sees Gregory and Eddie together in any meaningful way is when Eddie's presenting the "picnic" concept and serving them dinner in the garden. In that scene he's visibly aware of the fact that Eddie has a deeper understanding of the family than expected, and subtextually he's picking up on the fact that his son and this weird American have some kind of rapport. But he's also distracted by the dinner and he's trying to negotiate some deep emotional waters, so he's not putting any thought into it.

In my mind, there's a missing scene after that, which I wouldn't put in the book but might have put in the original script version if I'd thought about it. At this point he's either moved out to the fishing lodge or is in the process of it, so he's walking back to the lodge after dinner and thinking about the situation, and he has a thought process that goes something like:

Eddie clearly has a greater understanding of our family than I expected -- > that means the time he's been spending with Gregory isn't wasted as I felt it might have been -- > Gregory has seemed a little less tense about the coronation -- > perhaps if he's spending more time with this chef he's eating better -- > nice of Eddie to look after him --

At which point it strikes him like lightning just how Eddie is looking after him, and a quick mental replay of dinner drops the puzzle pieces into place, and he stops dead halfway down the trail to the lodge, blinking, and then cracks up laughing. He very nearly texts Gregory about it, but then realizes that would probably make things awkward and also it's good to have an ace like that up your sleeve.

And from there, armed with this knowledge, it's easier for him to discern that there's a genuine connection but Gregory won't acknowledge it -- which is Michaelis's fault, because he's banged on about having an appropriate spouse as king, so he needs to be the one to fix it. Eddie's perfectly acceptable to him as a son-in-law given what he now knows about him -- intelligent, engaged, enthusiastic about Shivadh culture, charismatic, clearly very fond of Gregory -- so once Michaelis is sure that Gregory is poised to let this perfectly good relationship fall apart, he intervenes.

But yeah, to my mind, he gets the evidence during the picnic dinner presentation, and just takes a couple of hours to assemble it, and a couple of weeks to make use of it. :)

[theravenmuse]

Tagged by @kotias

How many works do you have in AO3? 55! A few of which are art or meta, but the majority are fics.

What’s your total AO3 word count? 329,403 words.

What fandoms do you write for? Almost exclusively Good Omens.

Top five fics by Kudos:

1. I Could Be Yours (E) - 614 Kudos

The version of Good Omens where Aziraphale and Crowley are a pair of horny immortals who enjoy engaging in very long, very elaborate, VERY INTENSE role plays.

This fic is currently part of a hostage situation and will not be updated unless/until that is resolved. I do have a handful of chapters written and ready to go though.

2. I’ll Cum Quietly (E) - 613 Kudos (for a one chapter fic? We were all a little horny after that ending, I suppose. 😆)

Aziraphale has a REACTION to Crowley saying that line. Spoiler alert: Crowley does not come quietly. XD

3. The Nightingales Were Just Sleeping In (T) - 518 Kudos

The one where Crowley falls to the bookshop floor, a sobbing mess, and these two idiots finally figure out they’re just on opposite sides of the same page.

4. Oh, Simple Thing, Where Have You Gone (M/E I keep changing my mind) - 490 Kudos

Let’s make it worse! And then eventually fix it, I promise.

Immediately post season 2, we’re going to find out just how sinister the Metatron’s plan is.

Still a WIP. I’m coming back to this one as soon as I catch up on my event things.

5. Show Me You Love Me? (E) - 406 Kudos

After dealing with a few unruly demons, Aziraphale has been crowned the local demon expert. This mostly means informing the local priests that they have in fact trapped yet another normal human and setting the poor fellows loose. That is until today.

Alternatively: Crowley gets caught by some enthusiastic humans and was likely well on his way to discorporation before Aziraphale steps in. Aziraphale tenderly cares for Crowley, and then there are love confessions, and then Aziraphale takes care of Crowley in a different way.

Do you respond to comments? When I have the spoons I respond to every comment, even the basic “I loved this” ones. But spoons have been in short supply lately so I’ve only been responding to comments that I have meaningful responses to.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Oh my. Isn’t that a question. And surprisingly, it does have a definitive answer. This was only the fifth fic I ever published. It’s the first dark fic I ever wrote. It altered the way I think about using horror elements in storytelling. It has very few hits and kudos. It remains to this day one of my favourite works, despite the fact that I’ve grown so much in my prose and story structuring since then.

It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year (E) Mind the tags. I did not do in depth CWs the way I do them now. All of the warnings are in the tags only.

A Christmas horror story in which Crowley accidentally releases the demon of Yule, Krampus. Intense horror elements throughout, especially at the end. There is no bright side at the end of this. There is no safety. There is no peace.

What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? This one is actually harder. I know I’m more known for dark fic, but I’ve written more than one piece where they’re just completely happy at the end. Nothing could be better. Because of that, I’m going to go with the one with the happy ending that means the most to me. That would be this one:

There were Angels Dining at the Ritz (G)

Seasons 1, 2, and 3 (I hope) from the perspective of a waitress at the Ritz.

Do you get hate on fics? Not really. I’ve gotten two hate comments over 30+ dark and/or intense kink fics. One of those accounts is perma-banned, the other got off with a warning. Try it, I dare you.

Do you write smut? Yes indeed. The kinkier the better. You didn’t ask, but this is my favourite soft smut:

Just Another Day in the Rest of Their Lives (E)

It's a soft sort of spice, being woken by your lover's kisses in the cottage you share in the South Downs. How long can they linger here, letting eternity pass them by?

And this is my favourite kink:

Submission (E)

Crowley is in one of his "bratty bottom" moods and needs some help calming down.

And finally, my favourite dark smut fics:

Belle Mort (E) - lovingly nicknamed “Necro”

Heaven is on to the Arrangement. Fortunately, Aziraphale has a plan to throw them off the scent. Surely hereditary enemies couldn't be fraternizing if one of them discorporates the other? Crowley would never agree to such a plan, of course, but they can talk about it after.

No Escape For the Wicked (E) - lovingly nicknamed “eggs”

Crowley has been Lucifer's brood bitch from the dawn of the Earth, a duty he can't escape after his treachery. When he is forced to return to the depths of Hell for his task following his betrayal, he finds a vengefully jealous master.

Craziest Crossover? I don’t know about craziest, but this Good Omens X The Sandman is quite a bit of kinky fun.

Desire (E)

Crowley has spent the last several thousand years keeping Desire at bay. He's had to. But after a certain night in 1941, when Crowley's defenses are shot and Desire comes in the shape of his angel, the demon at last gives in to a temptation of his own making.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I’m aware of. I do occasionally scour for stolen works through general Google search, but that isn’t a guarantee.

Have you ever had a fic translated? The first chapter of I Could Be Yours has a Russian translation. I’m unsure if the translator intends to do more. The lovely @nosferatini has also made a podfic of Platypi and Other Insignificant Topics of Discussion.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not that has been published yet. I have written fics based on other works and have had a few write fics based on mine. There’s a lovely comic up on Gleafer’s Patreon based on one of my own Patreon Exclusive fics. The Great Flood (available now to free and paid members on my Patreon).

All time favourite ship? Aziraphale/Crowley. Honorable mention to the crack ship I’ll go down with: The Bookshop/The Bentley.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Still unnamed. Serial art thief Anthony Crowley/FBI agent Ezra Fell. Slow burn. And I mean slooooow burn. Currently sitting at 150k words. It will be well over 400k when completed, I think.

What are your writing strengths? Intense emotion. Intense psychological elements. Putting just the right amount of feeling into a whump fic that the pain hits that much harder.

What are your writing weaknesses? I’m still a fairly young writer. I’ve only been publishing fic for four years. I’ve only really been writing for about fifteen. Because of that, I’m still evolving very rapidly. I see it the most in my prose. I’m still learning how grammar works among other things.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? It’s fine. It can help with the story immersion. I don’t speak any other language well enough to use more than the occasional short phrase. I do have an upcoming Rennaisance Era Pirate/Witch Crowley who says quite a few Irish Gaelic expletives.

First fandom you wrote in? Warrior cats. Never published but I do still have it somewhere around here. Written in pencil so it’s fading fast. 😆

Favourite fic you’ve ever written? YOU WOULD HAVE ME CHOOSE BETWEEN MY CHILDREN?!

Okay, I really did try. I scrolled through several times but I can’t choose. So instead, have the crack fic that I nearly got a heart attack over when someone sent an ask about it to Neil Gaiman’s inbox. 😳

Hey Sexy, Wanna Oil My Exhaust Pipe? (E)

The Bentley doesn't appreciate being left out in the cold while her demon gets it on with his angel. Fortunately, the bookshop is all too willing to engage in some fun times of their own.

Tagging: @nosferatini @theonewiththeshippinggoogles @naromoreau @startledplatypus @depressedpenguin2

[lollytea]

Huntlow ft Gus au where they roleplay Cosmic frontier and being O'bailey helps Hunter feel more confident to flirt with Willow? Kinda like in Community when Annie, Troy and Abed roleplay Inspector Spacetime and Abed totally changes when getting into character

OKAY OKAY OKAY But after all this Collector shit is over and everything settles down. Hunter and Gus LARPing in their Cosmic Frontier cosplays and Gus casts an illusion curtain so Camila's basement really does feel like the inside of a futuristic spaceship. They even get Camila on board to join them. (Remember how excited she was to LARP in Yesterday's Lie?? She's never done anything like this before but she would be so into it!!)

Anyway. You KNOW how Gus and Hunter are. Obviously Gus is a born performer and very committed to theatrics but also there's Hunter who is intensely hyperfixated on Cosmic Frontier and not only connects to O'Bailey but also sees him as a fictional role model of sorts. He's cool and smart and kind and confident and basically everything Hunter aspires to be. So O'Bailey is basically Hunter's main blorbo. He WOULD be the type to keep a notebook full of O'Bailey characters analysis. He understands this fictional man inside and out. Everything from his big grand life aspirations and inner turmoil to his little character tics and personal details.

So when he and Gus get into the zone? Oh Hunter would take it so deathly seriously. Gus would too so they're perfect LARPing partners.

I think it definitely fits with Hunter's tendency to lose himself in the roles that he plays, like how his personality altered when he was wearing the Golden Guard uniform. Except, in this case, Hunter's face is on full display and rather than O'Bailey being a character Hunter can hide behind like the GG was, it's more like Hunter is just having fun playing pretend, while using O'Bailey as a bit of an outlet for him to experiment with the person he wants to be. Role-playing as this character he really likes helps with his confidence significantly as with the bonus of being unmasked, it's easier for him to tap into it as Hunter.

Eventually. Eventually.

Because when they first start playing pretend, Hunter believes that he's playing an entirely different person than himself. But he has so much fun with it!!!

Anyway Gus and Hunter get very into their roles, acting out extremely tense and emotionally gripping scenes. Camila is also very enthusiastic, though she has a tendency to break character every once in a while by devolving into squeals because this is just SO cool!!! Why did she and Manny never do this??

Anyway Willow almost always shows up to watch. For the plot. She sits there and she watches Hunter go full cool hero protagonist mode for the plot. She's very interested in....whatever the fuck is going on. There's an asteroid about to hit the ship she thinks. She doesn't know what an asteroid is but she assumes this is a bad thing.

It's Camila that kickstarts the chaos. She notices the scene is waning in regards to cool shit to say and decides to spice things up. As O'Bailey and Avery are engaged in a tense dialogue, she shuffles over to where Willow is sitting and takes her by the hands to hoist her up.

"How about you join us, Mija? :)"

"Oh!" Says Willow, blinking out of the stupor that overcame her when Hunter started a dramatic monologue about the safety of everyone in the galaxy. "Okay...?"

She had never done something like this before. But now that Camila is leading her over to the boys, she thinks to herself...hm. yeah...Yeah!! Yeah, this could be fun!!!

"Captain Avery." Camila says sharply, snapping her posture straight. "Botanist Kumiko O'Bailey has been sent to inspect our vegetation crop and report back to the Nebula Federation."

Gus and Hunter turn to look at them and Willow feels the push to engage.

"Uhh. YES!" She announces, adopting a powerful air as she places her fists on her hips and tips her chin up high. "It's me! Kumiko!! And I'm here to...uh. To do what Camila just said."

"Quando."

"What Quando just said."

"Also...." Camila continues. "She mentioned wanting to see her husband."

"My what now?" Willow blurts out under her breath.

Oh. Right. Kumiko. Kumiko O'Bailey. She had heard that name once or twice. She knows at least a chunk of the lore. Hunter talks about it often.

So. So she's currently playing the role of...

"Kumiko!" Hunter exclaims and rushes to her side. And then suddenly there's hands and they're long and narrow and warm and they are cradling her hands. And though Willow has held Hunter's hands plenty of times, it was always initiated by her. It's his sudden bout of forwardness that stuns her speechless.

Where is this coming from?

"Um..." Willow finds herself mumbling idiotically.

"You weren't answering any of my communications." Hunter says, looking deeply invested in the colour of Willow's eyes. "I was worried..."

Hunter has not acknowledged that this is something he would have been far too shy to do with Willow Park under any other circumstances. Because he is currently Chief Engineer O'Bailey and he is extremely committed to portraying this role faithfully. And if there's one thing he knows about O'Bailey, it's that he loves Kumiko with abandon.

"Aw, well, you know how it is," Willow grins, still a little breathless. She tries to tear her eyes away from their interlaced fingers, a slight blush seeping across her cheeks.

"The communication....thingie...was busted. So I just figured I'd hop on a spaceship and come find ya."

Under the assumption that she's nailing this role, Willow decides to get a little rambunctious with it. She tilts her head to the side, tweaking her smile into something overtly flirty. "I missed you <3" She says in a honey sweet tone that she has used on him on numerous occasions. It usually renders Hunter completely unsure of what to do with himself. It's adorable.

But not this time.

Hunter, completely unruffled, responds with a warm endeared smile that sends Willow's pulse coursing. "I missed you too." He says softly.

And then. One of those accursed hands of his. It settles into a gentle caress against her face.

Willow's eyes are just about about bulging out of their sockets.

"But wooow," Hunter croons, stroking the pad of his thumb across her cheekbone. (Her skin is hot and he is gonna notice, which is only making it hotter.) That's when the flirtatious touch to his own smile cracks through. "You traveled all those lightyears? For me?"

Willow does not have a fucking clue what a lightyear is. But she likes the sound of the word when he says it like that.

"You betcha, babe!" Willow responds enthusiastically, trying to regain some handle on this scenario. "You know I'd travel a million lightyears just to see you."

She flirts. Her. Willow.

Hunter unexpectedly taking the lead here is throwing her off. She's floundering.

Is this what she does to him all the time?

Hunter's smile spreads and he takes a step closer.

Willow would have taken an instinctive step back but she is currently frozen to the spot.

Hunter's eyes are very brown.

"Well..." He says musingly. "You've seen me. Will that be everything, Mrs O'Bailey?"

Willow is certain her heart forgot its main functions before promptly bursting into a frenzy.

How has his palm not scalded against her cheek.

Willow is about to say something. Potential responses swirl around in her head.

She isn't quite sure what is about to happen. All she's processing is that Hunter is standing very close and she has some ideas of what she would like to happen right now and she's pretty sure if she just--

"Oooooh. Go Hunter!" Somebody suddenly whoops and Willow gets to see the O'Bailey persona shatter like glass before her very eyes.

Luz has descended the stairs with not an ounce of context of what is going on. All she sees is Hunter cupping Willow's cheek and moving closer and closer.

Camila is observing with a broad beam, while Gus leans against a nearby wall, a little bored.

With that, Hunter is yanked back to the reality of the situation. He's not in space, he's in a basement. He's not Chief Engineer O'Bailey, he's Hunter. And she is not his wife Kumiko. She is Willow Park.

He might have been about to kiss Willow Park.

Heat floods his face and he breaks into a splutter of rapid-fire apologies. The words are spit out so frantically, they begin to tangle together.

And as charmed as Willow tends to be with flustered Hunter, she is quite disappointed that whatever that was is over.

Meanwhile Hunter is dangerously close to the realization that flirting with Willow Park is something as impossible as he originally thought.

[max1461]

I don't want to keep discoursing on evilsoup's post, so I'll make a new home for this sub-discussion here. To reproduce the relevant bits:

@max1461 (me) said:

I find that a lot of anti-anti-civ discourse revives (or perhaps merely continues, since they never really died) the cheapest fallacies of Whig history. There's not merely an acknowledgement of the (true, I believe) fact that industry and modern medicine make the lives of their beneficiaries much better, there is an implicit de facto and sometimes almost giddy dismissal of the value of all that came before. You get the feeling reading a lot of anti-anti-civ commentary that people are itching to condemn anything and everything of the past, and more troublingly any way of life that they personally view as obsolete, just for the sake of it. Just for the discourse thrills. It's reductive and it's unpleasant to engage with.

@sabakos said:

Honestly I have to say that indoor plumbing and modern medicine is good enough that I'd gladly torch even more of what came before and gladly spit in the face of anyone who tried to complain about it. Hypothetically, if the Ancient Greek language had had to be lost for modern plumbing to appear I'd flush the last manuscript of Plato down the toilet and lose no sleep over it. Fortunately, it didn't, but if it did it wouldn't matter.

You can't name one thing that even comes close to billions of people not dying of cholera or starving to death. So it's not surprising that people are eager to shit all over anyone who tries.

@max1461 said:

This is fine but it's totally orthogonal to my point. You acknowledge that Ancient Greek did not in fact have to be lost in order to get modern plumbing, but then gloss over this as if it's a minor aside. No! My point is that internet Whig history enthusiasts sometimes seem to be out to shit on anything and everything that strikes them as obsolete even when it does not need to be lost for the benefits of modern life to be enjoyed, for reasons that seem to me more aesthetic than anything else. Surely not everyone does this, but it's a common enough phenomenon to get on my nerves.

@sabakos said:

It's clearly something that bothers you, so maybe you could give some examples? Because this is all very abstract and I have no idea what you're talking about - based on what you've said here I don't think I've encountered this sort of guy despite being ideologically very similar to how you describe them!

---

There are actually people who think Ancient Greek (read: Inuktitut, Gan Chinese, Oromo) has to die for us all to get indoor plumbing! This is not actually an uncommon shape of opinion for people to hold, in the world at large. There are of course two versions of this, one more harmful than the other but both destructive: "we have to stop wearing kimono and start wearing suits or the Great Powers will never respect us", and "you have to stop holding potlatches in order to become civilized like us".

The point is not that these claims suppose different values than you or I hold, the point is that they are wrong, factually wrong. Unexamined Whig history of the sort which, as I said, sneers at anything that gives off vague whiffs of being "traditional" is making a set of factual errors. It's also often used cynically (as in the second example above) to advance political ends, but that's not really what I'm talking about here. What I'm talking about are people who seem to have a reflexive distaste for anything that appears to them overly sympathetic to the old, any cause with preservationist or restorationist undertones, even when it in no way conflicts with people enjoying the benefits of modern technology. This kind of thinking does active harm in the world. Random tumblr users are of course not likely doing any harm by engaging in it, given that tumblr discourse obviously has no political sway. But it's still frustrating to see a stance that is both incorrect and harmful so casually taken up over (what I perceive to be) petty discourse bouts.

Sometimes, old things are fine, and wanting to keep doing them is fine. When people oppose this, especially on reflexive, aesthetic grounds, I think it is bad.

To be clear, I've never seen anyone in this conversation (you or triv) do any of what I've described here. But I do see it a lot and it kind of drives me up the wall.

[bedlamsbard]

Tagged by @windona!

1. How did you get into writing fanfiction?

I genuinely have no idea, it was too long ago. (2001/2002)

2. How many fandoms have you written in?

I've dabbled in a number of fandoms, but my big three have been the MCU, Star Wars, and Narnia, with a reasonable amount of writing time in BSG, CSI:NY, Miracle, and HP, and there have been bits and bobs elsewhere, sometimes as crossovers, sometimes not. (I actually used to do a lot of crossovers.)

3. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

SOME. probably like 22.

4. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

Write. By and large I don't read in my writing fandoms, and since I'm pretty monofannish in general, it means I don't tend to read much fanfic anymore. I'll occasionally go down rabbit holes of old fandoms or occasionally particular authors (I went down a Smallville rabbit hole about a month ago), but these days I don't read much. My reading fandoms have tended to be fandoms that I was familiar with but wasn't inclined to write in back in the day (10-15 years ago), and I don't really pick up new reading fandoms these days for whatever reason. The MCU was one of my longest-running reading fandoms and it messes me up that I can't read in it anymore, because it's now a writing fandom, and all the stuff I used to be able to read pings as wrong to my brain.

5. What is one way you’ve improved as a writer?

Execution and discipline. I have always been a cast of thousands/complex plot writer, but for a long time I just didn't really have the skill level to execute it really well -- Dust in the Air is the most dramatic example. Part of it is also that I didn't really know when to rein myself in, and that's something I've worked really hard on. (Even Gambit's guilty of this, though by that point I was better at it.) I'm a lot better now at not only knowing what can be done but actually, you know, doing it.

6. What’s the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I've researched some unbelievably weird stuff, I don't know what counts as weird anymore. Most of it has been for the MCU, since that's real world (give or take) and I try to be as accurate as possible, especially with something like Home where it's historical. Like, I looked up boxed cereal the other day to figure out when it had been invented, pre or post WWII. (Pre, but the idea of it as a kids' breakfast came post.) I've looked up so much about WWII-era engagement rings. The infamous "WWII essentially invented the men's wedding ring" thing. So much spy stuff. (I'm haunted by the fact that there's an inaccuracy in Home because I didn't realize at least one term was Cold War era and wasn't used in WWII.) Everything about special operations and spies in WWII was more batshit than the last thing. I watched WWII hand-to-hand combat training videos so that Peggy's fighting style would be 1940s-appropriate vs. 2010s-appropriate. I dug through online archives of newspaper headlines for the exact dates of the events in Home (those are almost all real headlines!). I went through War Department ID cards so that Natasha's would be more or less accurate. For Horizon I spent so, so long looking at summer of 2020 photos and blog posts so I could get the post-apocalyptic deserted Midtown vibe just right. (Also, like, horrifying that that's a thing you can just look up since we lived through it!) I watched escalator videos of people riding the escalator up from Grand Central into the MetLife building so that the scene of the Avengers going up the escalator in Stark Tower would be accurate. I looked up elevator enthusiast blogs to figure out how the Stark Tower elevators were likely to work. I went and walked around my own campus to plot out the geography and choreography of the Atlanta fight in Horizon, and then looked up pictures of the dorm rooms in the building where Natasha and the Hulk-Widow fight so that the furniture would be accurate. (Couldn't get into the actual building and the way it's laid out I couldn't look in the windows, even when it was empty for summer.)

7. What’s your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

Thoughtful ones about the details of the story, whether those are plot details or character details -- the "I never thought about it before, but of course Steve drowned" or the effect that the characters have on the environment or the characters around them, or the "wait, is this the thing from XYZ?" kind of comments.

I have a policy of not responding to comments unless they're direct questions, and sometimes not even then, but I do read all of them.

8. What’s the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

buddy I write Infinity War AUs in one of the biggest IPs in the world, I'm not sure what in here is fringe. lol.

that aside, I don't think I've seen another fic writer who's as interested as I am in dealing with the post-Snap period. I'm sure they're out there, I obviously can't read in this fandom anymore, but this is the period of the MCU I'm most interested in and it doesn't seem to be a really common one. (which is kind of understandable post-2020, tbh, but Horizon was my way of dealing with all of that.)

uh, less macro than that -- probably the most fringe topic is my intense interest in worldbuilding Asgardian law, particularly vis a vis inheritance.

9. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

I can't write short fic so I don't even try.

10. What is the easiest type?

"Easy" isn't really the best word here, but my default is 80-350K complex plot with a cast of thousands and intense relationship between 2-3 of the main characters. A long time ago I trained myself into being able to come up with long-form plot relatively easily, which is a great life skill if you want to write long-form plot, which I do. That is my default, which is why it's the easiest; aside from concept writing it's the only thing I write, and the concept writing is me playing with whether I should get to this point.

11. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

I am a Microsoft Word purist; I do it exclusively on my laptop, at home unless I'm traveling. I used to write on campus a lot; I don't do it anymore, though there are various reasons for that.

12. What is something you’ve been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

The honest answer is the third Ouroboros story, All Along the Watchtower, which I did get scared out of writing years ago. Would I love it to be written? Yes. Is it likely to ever happen? No. The other, similar answer, is the rewrite of the Dust in the Air, which kind of hits the "intimidation" point because I would have to completely rewrite it. Would I love to do that? Sure. Is it going to ever happen? Probably not. Anything I write I expect to spend a couple of years on, so if I get intimidated out of it, it's simply not going to happen.

13. What made you choose your username?

I have been bedlamsbard for many many years -- the name comes from Mercedes Lackey's Bedlam's Bard series, which I was very fond of at the time. (I was also a flute player at the time, like Eric Banyon.) IIRC, I was also trying to figure out what would be symphonic enough to be memorable, especially because this was back in the days when your username was your name, it almost never changed. The double B in Bedlamsbard followed a few other well-known fen who had similar patterns. It doesn't seem to be common anymore. (There are one or two places on the internet where I still have a pre-Bedlam username, and I have another username I use when I don't necessarily want my fannish username associated because my real name is attached.)

I don't tag people, but go for if you like!

[roadandruingame]

RAR Musings #11: Rebuilding A System

I engaged in a reddit thread discussing "killing your darlings" lately, where they wanted their game to be "simple and approachable", "narratively driven", and "introduce elements of mech games that enthusiasts enjoy, but to people who aren't enthusiasts."

"Killing Your Darlings" has blown up as a game design buzzphrase people use to appear more experienced and wise than they actually are. Often, it's a bid to appear better read, or "oh woe is me, who must relinquish my idea to the void. Good thing I'm above all that, professional designer that I am, that I can sacrifice my preferences and ideals for the greater good," but for a single tear rolling down the cheek, but in this case, it was a genuine argument about whether something would contribute to the final product well or not.

I don't personally define a game with equipment heat, energy costs, and random lookup tables for an assortment of weapons in a catalogue to be "simple and approachable" for non-mech enthusiasts, nor particularly necessary for a "narratively driven" game, but I'm more upset about "narrative game" getting slapped on a lot of different products that don't actually have mechanics for driving a narrative. The 'stress' mechanic that they were dropping would actually give definition to the characters of the game, if the game's narrative was about said characters, but by removing it in favor of player agency, it's just... it's just a game. Not a story.

I fought about it, and offered some alternatives. Rather than a negative mechanic that removes player agency, why not a Brave mechanic, granting extra rewards for engaging in risk? Why have all these different mech parts, why not just have Parts, if non-mech enthusiasts weren't going to care? Why not come up with mechanics that actually DO tell a narrative, rather than just relying on DND-make believe?

The more I thought about it, the more mad I got, not just at the designer, but at myself, and Road and Ruin.

I don't like the phrase, Killing Your Darlings, to begin with. It implies that your idea is so specific, so inherent to the engine you're designing for, that there's absolutely no salvaging it. A new species, that winks in and out of existence, a twinkle, before you snuff it out, never to be seen again. Why not figure out a way for it to be used! Or if it doesn't fit or overworks the product, shelve it! Use it on a different project! Don't let your dreams be memes! You're a designer, not a farmer with a lame horse!

But I had invested so much time, so much design work, and been so pleased with the elegance of Road and Ruin's core resolution mechanic, that after coming to terms with the fact that it was bulky, time-consuming, involved adding too many numbers, and ultimately wasn't actually very fun, I resisted any notion of changing it. Even later, when I DID change proficiency from affecting the minimum dice value of the d10s, into being a flat value added to the d10s, the system still involved adding anywhere from 2-5 random values between 1 and 10, and then the proficiency value besides.

So why was I so willing to tear into this objectively decent mech game, and do so much design work trying to come up with ways to simplify it, when I wasn't willing to entertain simplifying Road and Ruin for a more enjoyable experience and a wider audience?

_______________________

I woke up the other day with a sudden idea.

Road and Ruin's core skill resolution system might involve too much math hinging on too many variables, but what about the combat system?

It was another system I'd done some major work on over time, but unlike skill checks, only really involved one dice roll, and no math after. I started to think how I might actually make the combat system the core skill check system, thus unifying the game under one mechanic, and being a lot faster, and more fun besides.

The gist of it is, that when making an attack in combat, you'd roll a d4 (Piercing/Accurate), d8 (Slash/Scrape, edged contact), or d12 (Bashing/Touch, only contact is necessary), subtracting the target's armor, and +/- an amount based on who had the edge in weapon skill. A 1 or less is a miss, and above half is full damage, based on a flat value determined by the weapon's weight, minus any lacking Strength needed to swing it. Anything in between is a Glancing Blow for half damage. There's also the Special system as well, but I'll leave that for another post; the point was, I wanted combat to come away having inflicted SOME damage each attack, rather than none, but for there to be a real fear of both heavily armored units, as well as expert swordsmen.

But what if that was how skill checks worked? Currently, the system assumes an average 2d10, up to 5d10, adding (proficiency/10 x specialization/5), and looks for multiples of 10; that is, 10+ is 1 success, 20+ is 2 successes, 30+ is 3, with successes being measures of what a creature can easily, with training, and with specialization do, relative to a creature of it's size and shape. An adult human can toss paper into a can with a 1; a wolf might be able to open a latched door with a 2-3, or 25. Blessings/Curses and gear could modify this in multiple ways, such as preventing rolls below or above a certain threshold, or allowing the reroll of one or more die.

If skill checks were instead a sliding scale, using a single d10, difficulty could be calculated before the roll was even made, like the impact of 2 points of armor on an attack roll. By sliding the scale of success, even physically using a sliderule, results of (1 Fail/And, 234 Fail, 5 Fail/But, 6 Succeed/But, 789 Success, and 10 Success/And) are moved left and right, and the die is left with the final say. Specializations can reduce the threshold of Succeed/And, while greater consequences for failure move up the threshold of Fail/And.

If 10% increments are too much, (especially for disciplines where the likelyhood of crafting a masterwork item should be less than 10%), a d100 still offers a "one dice" solution, but on 1% increments. In that case, the threshold for masterwork can be "specialization x proficiencies", and anyone with even one specialization can make repeat attempts, so long as they have the time and resources, to continue chiseling away until they've finished their magnum opus, gaining +1% chance of masterwork each roll, whereas a legendary master completes such works on a 50% basis.

In terms of gear, supportive equipment can either reduce the Success/And threshold, the regular success threshold, or allow for a reroll 'save' when rolling a failure, such as in the case of climbing rope stopping a fall. But, in each case that the support is used, it suffers a level of damage, and the Fail/And threshold of the follow-up save increases. Past a certain point, using intact, but damaged rope ends up being more risky than it's worth, without it explicitly preventing use.

In the case of blessings and curses, they can allow rerolls, or just flat +1/-1 effects. What I'm really warming up to with this idea is how just about everything boils down to using the single die, but in a way that's still got a lot of tools to play with.

________________

Now some cons. I'd done a LOT of work on the earlier system, and designed lots of spells, such as the Revision magic, Lethologica, a spell that allows the reroll of any one die in proximity, both supportively or debilitatingly. This was a lot more balanced when you were rolling 2-5 dice per throw, but a single die? Massively overpowered. I'd rather not upgrade the cost of what was essentially a cantrip to a fifth-level spell, so I'm going to have to figure out how I'd get to keep it and make it work still. One solution might be forcing the use of the d100, and having Lethologica alter the result by a number of points in either direction, being used to help sway results, but not effortlessly overturn them. It allows for spell scaling, with more mana converting to a greater degree of sway, and still allows sway in either direction, helping to save near-failures and fail near-saves.

Another issue is the case of Monstrous/Mini. When I changed RAR from being a 10-scale attribute system to a 5-scale, I was bothered by how I'd account for three-story giants, pixies, and small-world scenarios. I'd developed Monstrous and Mini, x5 and /5 multipliers for stats that helped to massively scale up or down the effects of 1-5 of any given attribute. So, a creature with Monstrous Strength 3 would multiply the results of their 3d10 roll by 2. Monstrous 2 Strength 4 would get (4d10 x 3). Boss monsters could still get trash rolls (2+3+1 x 2 is just 12, doable on 2d10) but still get high effects on average. Miniscule, on the other hand, reduces the character's Size by a stage, having them struggle to pick up thimbles and defend against ants. This complete overhaul of the core skill check resolution system doesn't have "10 = 1 success" anymore, so multiplying the results doesn't really work; not that it did, because it was slow, and unfun.

A solution for this is... a lookup table. Kind of. The actual value of each of the stats, 1-5, are actually still quite valid for establishing standards. If a creature has reasonable stats to do what they're looking to do, they should roll, no problem. If their stat is lacking, they suffer a -1 for every stage they're missing, and if they exceed, +1 for every stage they're over. But for Monstrous/Mini, like... maybe it's +/- 5 in each direction? And if Fail would get pushed off the board, it stays at 1, causing a chance for failure of 10%? I mean, engaging in a mental mindclash with an illithid SHOULD be next to impossible with their Monstrous Intelligence, but just the chance that they roll a 1 is probably more fun than "you literally just can't do it".

The question here is, if players who are generating their own creatures have a solid understanding of what Monstrous/Miniscule creatures are actually DO, without getting to experience them in action first. And, since the game actually IS narrative in nature, I don't see an issue with placing impossible monsters in front of players that they're not actually supposed to defeat, really. But it feels weird to not be multiplying the outcome of dice anymore.

[prismatoxic]

i've told parts of this story before, but bare with me, i'm emotional.

so like, i've had this blog since 2021. my original tumblr blog (made in 2011 iirc) was nuked in 2018 for exactly the reason you think (nsfw ban) and i didn't return for a handful of years because it stung so bad. even when i did, i mostly used twitter.

i started posting to tumblr more regularly when musk's twitter takeover finally pissed me off enough to ditch it. (i have since gone back, sort of, but am not reliably present and mostly just rt art people send me.) i've been pretty consistently here since then, sans a very angry break when all the shit with automattic's CEO happened.

and like... looking through my archives... i only made a dedicated tag for asks last july, even though i've been using an organizational tag system since i made this blog. that's how infrequent they were. my art usually got between 0 and 3 notes. when i left briefly back in january, i deleted every post in my art tag because i didn't want to leave my work here, but also, like... the only things that went anywhere were some of my mgs fanarts. no one owes anyone's work attention, but it didn't feel worth it, you know? like why share it with the public when i can just show it to the like 3 friends i know who care?

i came back partially because i felt... isolated. i have friends on the fediverse and on discord, but tumblr gave me a sense of being in a community, even if i didn't feel like an important part of said community. i missed queuing funny posts to enjoy weeks later, i missed being kept sort of in-the-loop about fandom goings-on, i missed my friends who were still here. (and that last one is also part of why i check twitter more now.)

but that alone wasn't enough, because i was a nobody here and it probably wasn't worth it to try again. but then devot and i started watching dungeon meshi, and i got into chilaios just like i thought i would, and tumblr has the largest concentration of chilaios fanart and posts. not only that, but every post i saw in the tag had so much engagement! i didn't see a single one that went unnoticed, back in february. so i hesitantly came back. i started reblogging chilaios posts. i didn't intend to try and break into the space because i knew it'd just hurt if i went unnoticed again, like i did in other fandoms.

but i made friends, little by little. i started a fanfic. i cautiously began posting my art again. i started writing meta, and shitposts, and replying on other people's posts, and commenting on other people's fics, and now...

that ask tag i mentioned? there are 15 pages of posts with that tag on my blog. only 2 and a half of those pages are asks from before i got into dunmeshi. people talk to me--they care about my thoughts and my opinions, they compliment the things i make. i have a group of like, 30+ people i interact with regularly, many of which i now consider close friends. everything i post gets some attention, no matter what it is.

this isn't a humblebrag, it's just... a thank you. i can't really properly express the depths of the loneliness i've felt in the past. i was an outcast for a long time, and it was way worse pre-2019, but i don't think it's ever fully left me. i've been hurt very, very badly in the past, and i've been abandoned a lot, and i've been ostracized a lot. i've grown into who i am today both in spite of and because of all i've been through, and for that i wouldn't ever change it, but it was still hard.

so today, as i turn 29, seeing asks and gifts pour in to tell me happy birthday, and that i'm appreciated... just, thank you.

if there's one thing you can give me today, it's this: reblog someone's art or writing or meta with some enthusiastic tags. send someone a friendly ask. reply to someone's post to comment on something they've said. write comments on ao3 for the fics that move you, no matter how much or how little you can think of to say.

this is going to sound cheesy as hell, but i genuinely mean it: reach out, and spread joy, whenever and wherever you can. you never know who's in pain, who's lonely or who feels worthless. and if it's you who feels that way, do what you can anyway; a community that isn't afraid to reach out will reach back to you, too. and you're not alone. i care, i promise--and more people than you realize do too.

it's so easy to underestimate how much a kind word can do. they add up, though. so keep going.

[gardenerian]

I know you've been on Shameless and Gallavich tumblr for a while and I was hoping you could give me some advice. I hope this doesn't sound too pathetic.

I'm a massive Shameless and Gallavich fan. I have been here for nearly a year and I feel very excluded. I really want to connect with the others in this community, but it's not working no matter what I try. I don't write, draw, make art or create gifs. I don't have any creations to offer and share. I know those types of things would get me some attention and for people to notice and interact with me. I like and reblog a lot of other people's posts daily. I leave comments on people's posts as often as I can to praise their work or to share my thoughts but I rarely get any responses from the person. I post random Shameless and Gallavich thoughts and head-cannons with tags but they rarely get many likes and no one ever comments to strike up conversation. I take part in the tag games and tag others, but week after week never get tagged to participate, but I participate anyway. Still, I never get comments on the stuff that I share about myself to let others get to know me. I have tried sending ask to people about things they have posted to strike up conversation, but I either never get a response or it's a one time response that doesn't go anywhere after that.

I suppose the gist is that I keep trying to strike up conversations to connect with the people in this community and it falls flat every time. I'm simply at the point where it makes me sad to come on here and to see how tight-knit this community is and how much you all interact with each other, hype each other's posts and make posts for and mentioning each other like on birthdays. I know you are part of an especially close group so it seems like you might be just the person to ask.

I'm not writing this as a complaint or to accuse anyone of anything. It's the opposite. I want to join in in this community and feel included. I want to no longer feel sad and ignored when I am on here trying to participate and interact. Like I said, I don't write or make art so do you have any tips about how I can get noticed and accepted into this community? I just want to make friends with all of you and finally feel a part of this community.

hi there 😭 i am so sorry you're feeling this way. wanting to connect is such a human thing, and it's not pathetic at all to reach out. i think it's great. so thank you for coming to chat with me about it, and i hope i can help ❤️

excluding people is never something i want to do. i want to engage fully and enthusiastically - i think we all do! and while there are so many ways to get involved, i do think engagement around here (on tumblr as a whole!) is different than it used to be. for me personally, i was on tumblr 24/7 for a long time, but now that i am working again, it's a little harder for me to be present as much as i want! it comes and goes in waves, really. sometimes i am tagged in things that i don't get to, sometimes i forget to respond to asks, sometimes i miss posts that go around during busy times. and sometimes i think i'm following people when i'm not! this happens to me a lot and it's super embarrassing 😭 and i think these kinds of things happen to just about everyone! sometimes we just can't be here the way we want, even if we love it. and we do love it! so much!

i'm glad you're participating! and i want to make sure that everyone knows that making or posting things is not a requirement to be here. there's no entry fee to enjoy fandom space. if you want to give it a try, please do! but you don't owe us anything; your presence is more than enough.

for me the answer was just to keep talking. i wish i had more direct tips, but i just have not shut up since 2019. people started talking back, but for a while it did feel like i was just talking to myself. i know you've been putting yourself out there, and it's really brave and wonderful. i hope you'll keep trying. there are people that will love you, and i'm sorry if i've missed you so far. i don't want you to feel sad here. if you feel comfortable, shoot me a DM! tag me in things! i will hype you up, i promise. i want to hear what you have to say, and i want to get to know you. there are friends here for you 💓 edit: join the discord if you can!

anyone else with tips is welcome to chime in.